


my money's on you

by aibari



Series: this is how it works [1]
Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: F/F, First Kiss, The Magnus Archives Femslash Week, what the girlfriends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-30
Updated: 2019-12-30
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:13:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22036099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aibari/pseuds/aibari
Summary: "I've been thinking about finding a therapist," Melanie says. It comes so out of nowhere that Georgie nearly drops the card she's holding.Melanie breaks the news. Georgie gets bold.For day one of the Magnus Archives Femslash Week 2019.5: First Kiss.
Relationships: Georgie Barker/Melanie King
Series: this is how it works [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1586131
Comments: 20
Kudos: 93
Collections: The Magnus Archives Femslash Week 2019.5





	my money's on you

"I've been thinking about finding a therapist," Melanie says. It comes so out of nowhere that Georgie nearly drops the card she's holding. They are sitting on the rickety chairs of her tiny kitchen, drinking cheap wine and playing a card game about herb collecting, talking about nothing in particular.

They are _definitely_ not talking about therapy, or anything therapy-adjacent.

Melanie sees her fumble with the card and laughs, but there's a sharpness to it, a defensiveness that makes Georgie's heart hurt. "What, like I can't be " _responsible about my mental health_ "?"

She does the air quotes, aggressive twitches that curl her fingers into claws.

"Well," Georgie says, and puts the card (thyme, three points,) face-up on the table in front of herself, on the same neat line as the mint and chive, "you definitely can't play Herbaceous for shit."

Melanie stares at her and then the card. "Oh my God, you _bitch_."

"Next round, that herb biscuit is mine," Georgie says, drawing another card and putting it into the community garden.

Melanie mock-scowls at her. The light of the kitchen lamps shines in the highlights of her dark hair, makes galaxies in her eyes. Georgie looks down at the tabletop. Her throat is tight; she is suddenly fiercely glad, and fiercely proud, that Melanie is here, that Melanie is trying, that despite everything she is still trying to swim against the current, to pull herself back out and onto shore.

"I'm really proud of you, you know." It comes out wetter and more choked than she intended. Melanie shoots her a startled look.

"Th-thank you," she says awkwardly, and then relaxes into it. "I've been thinking about it for a while."

"Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Melanie says. “Like … it's been hard. For … for obvious reasons, but.”

She laughs, and draws a shaky breath. Her hands drum on the uneven wood of the tabletop. Georgie wants to catch them, to hold them close and tight and keep them safe, but she knows how _that_ goes. This needs to … not be that.

“I've spent most of my life feeling angry,” Melanie says, “angry and righteous and, and _small_. And then the Slaughter happened, and I wasn't small anymore.”

It had been bad. They stopped playing most of Georgie's games when Melanie came over, because the competition brought out something dark and driven in her that neither of them liked. They stopped talking about work, because it kept setting Melanie off. She'd go from pleasant to murderous in minutes, spiralling harder each visit. Georgie had thought about Jon, vomiting words in her living room with his eyes wide open. She had told Melanie she needed to quit, over and over, and Melanie told her that she had tried, that she was trying, and by the end of those conversations they were both crying, frustrated and upset and angry, too, because anger never _quite_ left the room whenever that version of Melanie was around.

“And then Jon and Basira got the bullet out of me, and I wasn't angry or righteous anymore, either. I was just … small again. Empty.” Melanie laughs self-depreciatingly. “I mean, this isn't _new_ to you, Georgie, I – I've been a mess. I'm not going to _stop_ being a mess as long as I work there, and I can't quit, but … I think therapy would be … good. Bit of a band-aid on an axe wound, but _something_ has got to be better than nothing, right?”

“Yeah,” Georgie says. She smiles, and maybe it's too serious a topic for her to be smiling, but she does anyway. “Can't stitch up an axe would without any tools.”

Melanie laughs like it's funny, rough at the edges.

The mood shifts, and the conversation flows back to easier things. They play cards and drink wine and laugh about things that have nothing to do with monsters or the Magnus Institute, and it's lovely, but Georgie is distracted. Her brain catches on details. Melanie's hands drum against the cards and the tabletop and her drawn-up knee. Melanie's fringe is getting too long, and she keeps having to brush it out of her eyes, keeps shaking her head even though her hair is too short for that to do much of anything. Melanie's mouth moves bright and gleeful around syllables, presses dark lipstick against the lip of her wine glass.

Georgie has known Melanie for almost as long as she's known _about_ her; they met a month or two after Ghost Hunt UK started to _really_ pick up a following. They met through work, and then at parties, and finally just to hang out. Melanie was such a … a _cool girl_ , more then than now, the kind of cool that wears itself like a shield and looks practically effortless. Georgie had seen her with her sharply winged eyeliner and sensible shoes on the first, technically average episodes of Ghost Hunt UK and thought _I want to get to know you;_ had seen her at parties and heard her hoarse, not-quite-a-smoker laugh on a shadowed porch in the middle of August and thought _I think I know you;_ had met her for drinks and games and mutual bitching about coworkers and tech issues and thought _I love that I get to know you._

Now, sitting in the kitchen late on a Tuesday night, it makes her feel like her heart is going to burst. Melanie's eyeliner is smudged, but she still has that laugh sometimes, still wears those sensible shoes. She looks smaller now than she used to, and sadder, but there is something about the way she holds herself now that makes everything go quiet.

Seeing her here, like this … it is a privilege, Georgie thinks, with a fierceness that surprises her. It is a _privilege_ , just like knowing Melanie in the first place is a privilege. It's so big, so enormous, that for a second it is almost hard to breathe.

“Are you okay?” Melanie asks.

“Can I kiss you?” Georgie asks. It slips out without her meaning it to, but once it's there on the table, she can't make herself regret it.

Melanie's face is so shocked it is almost comical, eyes wide and mouth hanging open. “What, seriously?”

“Do I look like I'm not serious?”

"Well, how am I supposed to know?" Melanie asks, laughing. "You're all," she makes a motion with her hands like half a figure eight, "and I'm all," she gestures towards herself, "you know?"

Georgie squints at her. "No?"

Melanie huffs out a breath that makes her fringe stand up. "Okay, well, if you're gonna make me say it. You're _really hot_ , Georgie. You're gorgeous. I'm a trash fire gremlin. You -"

"Okay, I'm going to stop you right there," Georgie says. "That's the woman I l - like you're talking about."

"The woman you _l-like?_ "

"Oh, shut up," Georgie says, grinning. "Do you want to kiss me or not?"

"Yeah," Melanie says. She swallows. "Yeah."

Georgie takes her hand and pulls her up from the table. Melanie comes along easily, and then they're standing close together in the cramped corner by the window.

"Hey," she says, leaning down so their faces are almost touching.

"Hey," Georgie says. Her face hurts from smiling. She leans up and brings her mouth to Melanie's, pressing close and joyful and she is still grinning, which makes it awkward, teeth clicking against teeth, but she can't stop, and Melanie is grinning, too. They slot together at odd angles, but they fit, it all fits, and Melanie's mouth is warm and lovely; she kisses with teeth and tongue and a determination that leaves Georgie weak in the knees, breathless. Georgie gives back as good as she gets, backing Melanie up against the wall and the novelty cat calendar from 2013, nips and licks at the corners of her mouth until Melanie moans.

After, Melanie stares down at her, a little dazed. "What is this, a mental health incentive programme?"

Georgie laughs. It feels good, and loud, all the way down to her bones. Melanie scrunches her nose at her, but her eyes are huge, galaxy-bright.

"No," Georgie says. She kisses Melanie low on her cheek, just because it's within reach. "This one's just between you and me."

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. The title is from Dessa's _Dixon's Girl_ , which somehow feels like a Georgie + Melanie song without being a Georgie + Melanie song at all. Schroedinger's G+M.  
> 2\. Look, I can't stop thinking that Georgie and Melanie both seem like exactly the kinds of people who would have extensive board/card game collections.  
> 3\. If you want, you can find me on [tumblr](https://aibari.tumblr.com/) or [twitter](https://twitter.com/aibari)!


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